Such weirdness that I actually can’t talk about what I really loved in this book without revealing the story’s central idea.
And in a story like this, that uninterrupted flow of natural text is really essential to pulling the reader into the weirdness. I do wish I had been able to get a copy in French, knowing as I do the sad misses of translation, but the translation here at least reads excellent and flows beautifully as English, so kudos to Nora Mahony for producing a text that sounds like it was always in English. All the urgency and panic contained in these pages just has so much more of an impact in a single sitting. On a rare day off, I sat down on my bright blue sofa and read it from cover to cover. I was going to need to devote my brain to it entirely. I picked it up when I was doing my OFFICIAL INTERPRETER work, but every time I opened it in a casual moment, looking for a quick read while I had a snack before going back to work, the first pages told me that this was not a book for a casual moment. And this is when I realized I needed to read something in English, far from the world of men who love men for the sake of women.įortunately, Sandcastle was right there on the shelf of unread books, waiting for me. Maybe this fight about the detour is really about something deeper, something neither of them could ever say out loud, something they both want more than anything in this world. Maybe they fight because they love, I mused. Which got really weird when I caught myself shipping the bus driver with the old man freaking out about the detour on the route. After all the BL and Japanese action around these parts lately, I was starting to turn every scene around me into Japanese romance.
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